Influence

 

The sure melt of shore-held ice 

Warmed in it's hidden cove, surrendering to the sun

Cold, brittle, breakable into something fluid and alive

Under the surface and joyful:

A subtle chorus of little streams dancing through the stones

Most things can't help but be changed

In the company of another

Cattails letting go their seeds to the wind

Soil, enriched beneath the push of thunder

Trees, gently breaking apart rock

Are we not, too, moldable?

States of matter; flesh, bone, and blood

Minds that wend certain ways, tributaries

That come out through our hands and mouths

To, in turn, erode or refresh others

Influence is inevitable

Although often not intentional 

What do you come into the presence of?

Yield and break before? Often too slow to be perceived

May the choice be that which is Good.